Death is a mysterious thing.
You always know to expect it
but when it comes for you,
You never quite accept it.
So when the red woman came for me,
Her way one of life.
I decided to feel her presence,
Wether or not the time was right.
She strode past the bloody green,
I didn’t move an inch.
Her face was hidden in a cloak,
I haven’t forgotten since.
When she reached my figure,
The bloody path...